Page 44 of Queen of The Reapers
Using his knife, Ezra scratches a long line from the nape of my neck down to the top of my ass, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. My body trembles and I visibly flinch as he slams the knife down on the granite, mere inches from my face.
“I’ve shielded you from this.” He taunts, yanking off his belt and kicking off his jeans and boxers. “Because I wanted to be different for you. But I’ll never change and it’s time you see me for who I really am. A fucking monster.”
He releases my head and his fingers bite into my hips with a bruising grip. He doesn’t ease into me. He kicks my legs apart, licks his fingers and sweeps his hand from the top of my clit down to my ass. He isn’t gentle or kind. He places his cock at my entrance, and without warning, slams into me with so much intensity that my body keels over.
“Fuck.” I groan, trying to scramble up to my elbows as my body lurches forward from his erratic thrusts. The sudden fullness is equally as pleasurable as it is painful and my body writhes beneath him as I experience a storm of sensations.
“You summoned the monster, Angel.” He hisses, pounding his enormous cock into me mercilessly. “Now this tight little pussy belongs to him.”
Sweat coats my skin as every touch sets my body on fire. It’s too good. The angry strokes, the dangerous possessiveness, even the sound of his powerful hips slapping my ass is sending me over the edge.
My body trembles as an orgasm builds within me. Suddenly, I want him to see what he’s doing to me. I want him to know just how good it feels to have him inside of me. To watch his reaction as I come all over his cock. To know that despite what he thinks, I can take whatever his monster throws my way.
I move up from my elbows and shift my weight to the palms of my hands. From this new position, I can see Ezra in all of his beautiful glory. He’s naked too and his entire body is coated with a light sheen of sweat, making every hard line on his body radiate under the light. I watch him for a moment as all the lust, anger, and possessiveness explodes out of him. He grips my hips tighter and his eyes stare mesmerized at the crux of where his cock meets my pussy. Then, as if he senses I’m watching, his eyes flicker up and I immediately implode.
Stars burst behind my eyes as I grind against his cock and savor each delicious stroke he throws my way. I’m coming apart and I’m milking his cock like my life depends on it.
I blink my eyes open and search for his eyes in the mirror. There they are. The hazy grey orbs with the power to emote so much and make me feel so many things. We lock eyes and Ezra sees the effect he has on me, at the same moment I see the effect I have on him. It’s too much for either of us to handle. As we reach the peak of our impossible high, he flashes me a wicked grin and I brace my hand against the mirror, preparing for the pounding of a lifetime.
The second my skin touches the glass, his smile falters and before I even realize what’s happening, the fullness I feel inside of me vanishes.
The severance is so out of the blue, so jarring that for a second I just stand there squeezing my eyes shut, giving my body time to mourn the loss. When I’m ready to speak again, I blink my eyes open and find the bathroom completely empty.
For a second, I stand there questioning my sanity.Did I just imagine that whole scenario?I glance around the room in disbelief, seeing no traces of Ezra in sight.
I turn back around to face the sink, and the pieces of the puzzle click together. He was here. The black pocket knife he left on the counter proves it. I pick it up and close it, gripping it tightly in my hands.
What the hell happened?My eyes travel up to stare at my reflection, and that’s when I see it. The bloody handprint I must’ve left on the mirror. Fuck. I cut myself earlier without realizing it and the blood must have sobered him up.Goddamnit, Ezra.
Ezra was right about one thing. He is a monster. But he’s my monster and I wouldn’t want him any other way.
Eighteen
My bare thighpeels from the leather barstool as I cross and uncross my legs. After putting in my order, I swivel around and begin searching the crowd. Jaime, my regular bartender, garnishes my water with a lime before popping a black straw in and sliding the glass towards me. “Thanks.” I offer, picking it up without giving him so much as a glance. By now he knows it's nothing personal. I'm here on a mission and I need to stay focused, so alcohol and socializing are strictly off-limits.
I've gotten better at this. At studying the facial cues of strangers. Surface emotions were always the easiest to decipher. We willingly express things like happiness, anger, and excitement because those are the emotions we want surrounding people to feel.
But the hidden ones are harder to grasp. Things like sadness, deceit, and fear. When it comes to those emotions, we stop at nothing to protect them. To stuff them down, so they never see the light of day. But no matter how good of a poker face we think we have, every single person has a tell. It’s usually something small. A twitch in the face. A shift in the eyes. Something physical that hints at the truth just clawing to get out.
That’s what I’m looking for as I lock eyes with these strangers. A flicker of recognition followed by a telltale sign of fear. It's a tiring job, and a lot of the time, I feel like all of this work is getting me nowhere. But this is the one thing that I can do to help find my sister. The one slice of control I have left in the chaos that’s become my life.
“Where are your men tonight?”
At first I mistook the man walking up to me as a stranger, but after hearing him speak, the tinge of a Russian accent is a dead giveaway.Dimitri.I flick my eyes to my right and give him a quick glance. “Close.” I deadpan, wanting him to feel every ounce of the threat in my tone. Atlas left thirty minutes ago to meet up with one of their contacts uptown, but he doesn’t need to know that. “What do you want?”
Dimitri nods his head as a hint of a smile forms on his lips. “I’ve been watching you, Kroshka.” Dimitri says, sitting on the barstool next to me. “At first, I wrote it off as coincidental, but after seeing you sitting in this very spot for almost a week now, I know what you’re doing.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” I bluff, wrapping my arms across my chest.
“You do.” Dimitri insists, swiveling the drink in his hand before tossing it back. “Of this, I’m sure. It’s a valiant effort, though ultimately pointless. Your sister’s killer would never show their face here.”
“She’s not dead.” I snap, glaring up at him as I feel the rage build within me. “God. Why am I even bothering to argue with you? I’m not doing anything but having a drink at my favorite bar.”
“So then, it's just a coincidence that you've been here every night for the last week?” He presses. “Why is it that when you’re here, you choose this exact seat every time? It’s the only seat on the bar that gives visibility of the entire club. All of that is simply a coincidence?”
“Yeah.” I retort. “It is.”
Dimitri takes a seat on the barstool next to me and I bristle. “If you want my opinion—”
